Hail, that gritty frozen cloud confection, that icy menace from the sky, can pummel plants and pound them right into the ground. Merciless, indiscriminate, always arriving in combination with heavy rain and strong winds, hail is Garden Enemy #1.
So isn't it odd how happy I am that we 'only' got a little hail?
And you can see from the photo, this particular brand of the frigid shrapnel was nothing to be sneezed at. Those stones are some of the largest I have ever seen here. They came down straight sideways, whipping at bizarre angles at our windows and bouncing vigorously out of puddles which gathered in the accompanying deluge of rain.
So why I am relieved?
My family and I were waiting out some wild thunder and lightning, waiting for my husband to come home for supper. We weren't really prepared for the first words that came out of his mouth upon his soaked, windblown entrance.
"Get in the basement," he announced tersely. "Now. There is a funnel cloud south of us, and it is heading this way."
So after spending some quality family time in the potato bin in our unfinished basement, a little hailstorm was no biggie.
The Theory of Relativity in action, that.
And it applies to other situations, not just hail...
“Godliness makes a nation great, but sin is a disgrace to any people.” Proverbs 13:24 NLT
We as a society complain about so many things. Rain. Parking hassles. Running out of hot water for a shower. An angry co-worker.
The theory of relativity doesn't even kick in. We don't compare our 'small' problems to what is really at stake. We don't stop to consider the powerful cumulative effects of our moral lapses. The ones that affect others - selfishness. Irresponsibility. Jealousy. Lust. Hatred. Unresolved anger.
Sin cripples a nation, bringing it to its knees. And most of us aren't aware of the real dangers, the tornadoes lurking in our own homes; instead, we are being swept up in the hailstones pounding us from the outside.
God has laid out rules that we can live by - rules not to rob our fun, but to ensure our health and safety and joy. And in a day and age where moral relativity creates a vacuum, we are dazzled by the small stuff, the stuff that does affect us but skirts the real issues.
Lord, I don't want to live so distracted that I don't deal with what You want to clean out of my own closets.
Help me to see sin as You see it, as a destructive damaging disaster in my own backyard. I want to deal with the relatively important issues, and learn to leave the rest in your capable hands.
Thank you for the hail, for the trees broken, for the wind-whipped plants that are still rooted to the ground and still have growing potential because they escaped the horrors of a tornado tonight.
Thank you that all things are relative...